


My favourite pastime

by wildestranger



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-10
Updated: 2010-04-10
Packaged: 2017-10-08 20:35:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/79287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildestranger/pseuds/wildestranger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marauder's era, 7th year, angst, bitterness, and sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My favourite pastime

"What do you want, Sirius?"

Remus's voice is bored and he doesn't look up from his book. Sirius hovers in the corner of his eye, where Remus is not looking.

"I want to talk to you."

Remus considers looking up from his book, then decides against it.

"It's a bit late. Can't we do that tomorrow?"

Remus's book is taken forcibly from his hand.

"No."

Remus stares at the ground for a moment, then looks up.

Sirius is dressed for bed, old pyjama bottoms snug on his hips and James's Rolling Stones t-shirt loose on his body. Remus can see the tattoo on Sirius's stomach, a red-and-gold dragon smirking on his hipbone.

" Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what, Sirius?"

Remus expects to see a scowl, but Sirius remains without expression.

"Avoiding me. Not coming to bed till after everyone is asleep. Sitting with Ravenclaws in class. Spending all your time in the library. Why are you doing it?"

Remus's voice is calm.

"I would have thought that would be obvious. I'm avoiding you because I want nothing to do with you."

Suddenly Sirius is inches from his face.

"Why, for fuck's sake? I know I fucked it up, with Snape, but this isn't about that. That wouldn't make you act like this."

"Oh? And what if it does?"

Sirius's hands are on his face and each word is growled into his ear.

"Because I _know_ you. I know what it is that makes you want to ignore people. What makes you want to speak."

It's easier than he thought to say these things. Remus is almost glad that Sirius has asked.

"You don't know what I want, Sirius. What I want doesn't come into it. What you're concerned with is what you want me to want so that it isn't inconvenient for you."

Sirius smiles, but there is no humour in it.

"Ah, but Moony, you don't know what I want."

Remus realises that for some reason he is furious, he wants to hit Sirius, kick him, claw his eyes out. He imagines himself getting up from his chair, lifting Sirius up, and throwing him across the room. Shouting horrible things, waking everybody up, shocking McGonagall and Lily and James with his violence.

"And we weren't talking about me. You don't ignore people when you can't stand them, you go out of your way to be excruciatingly polite to them, and say sarcastic things about them behind their backs."

Sirius isn't smiling now, and there's a grim curve to his mouth.

"You avoid people when you can't stand yourself. So the question is, what has happened to cause that? What have you done?"

"Or what have _I_ done?"

Remus sits very still. A thousand options run through his brain, a thousand things he could say. He would know how to say them convincingly.

Yet there is something very tempting about being honest.

"You've done nothing. Nothing that I would blame you for, anyway."

"You don't think there's anything wrong about telling your secret? Betraying your trust, and putting your life at risk because I'm a stupid idiot who doesn't think? You don't think there's anything wrong with that? That I shouldn't think better of you?"

"Well, why should you?"

Remus's eyes are cold but his voice shows disinterested curiosity. He honestly wants to know what Sirius would say. What could he say. But Sirius seems stunned.

"Why should I? Fucking hell, Moony, because you're my _friend_."

Remus says nothing. Such words stopped making sense a long time ago.

"Oh fuck this!"

Suddenly Sirius is kissing him, his hands are behind Remus's neck and on his back, and his tongue is pushing past Remus's lips. For a moment, Remus is still, but then he starts to push Sirius away.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Sirius takes hold of his hands but stops kissing long enough to say "No". Remus's anger is mixed with bafflement. He expects a torrent of phrases and bewildered thoughts to crowd his mind, but his brain is silent And Sirius presses for another plunge.

  
His hands are stroking Remus's face, thumbs moving in circles on his cheekbones, fingers reaching out behind the ears. His eyes are open and looking at Remus, as if to tell him that I am thinking of you, You are what I want, This is what I want. And then Remus closes his eyes and grabs Sirius, one hand in the back of his neck to press him closer and the other on his waist, moving beneath his shirt. They move lower on the armchair, grinding into each other, less tender, more needy.

The part of Remus's brain that isn't going _yesnowmoreyouwantyou_ admits that he wants this, and that he has always wanted this, and that he doesn't care about what it means, it means nothing, he doesn't care about consequences, or friendship, or ruin. He feels alive, and there is want, oh such want, and that is enough. He doesn't have to fight this now, doesn't have to worry about how he looks, what he is giving away. Now, he is taking.

Sirius has put his hands under Remus's shirt, and his fingers pass over a nipple, once, twice, and then his mouth is on Remus's belly and he is licking and biting and sucking, and Remus is moaning. Remus feels a sharp pain on his shoulder as a bruise hits the curve of the armchair, but he doesn't care as he begins to tear at Sirius's shirt. Sirius lifts his arms to help and Remus twists them around, pins Sirius to the chair with his arms still in the shirt and starts to lick Sirius's nipples. Sirius keeps moving, making mewling sounds at the back of his throat, and pushing his hips forward. Then Remus stops, rips the shirt off Sirius with one hand and starts to undo his pyjamas with the other.

"Merlin, Moony, you don't have to…"

Sirius looks at Remus, sees the look on his face, and shuts up. Remus yanks the pyjama bottoms off his legs, steps back, and sits down on the other chair.

"Your turn now. What do you want, Sirius?"

Sirius is nervous and naked, but knows what he must do. He stands up, steps forward, and kisses Remus. His hand flutters down Remus's shirt, and he begins to open the buttons, one by one. He slides his fingers across Remus's shoulders, pushes the shirt away, all the while kissing him. He puts his hands on Remus' thighs, strokes the muscles, then undoes the fly in his trousers. He lifts Remus up, pushes the trousers down, takes them off along with his socks. He kneels.

Sirius hasn't given a blowjob before, but he can see Remus expects him not to. The smell is somehow familiar, yet strange, intriguing. Sirius moves closer, and slowly licks the underside of Remus's cock. Remus lets out a breath.

He can feel the tension in his body rising with every kiss, every touch, and struggles to stand straight and to keep from touching Sirius. When his cock is surrounded by a warm mouth, he can feel his eyeballs going back in his head. Then Sirius stops. And stands up.

A warm hand on his cheek and they are grinding against each other, mouth on mouth, hands touching between, above, below. Remus strokes Sirius cock, and feels warm fluid on his hand as Sirius bites his shoulder. Then he arches his back and shudders.

They lie entangled in the armchair. Remus leans back and Sirius puts his head on Remus's chest, closes his eyes and presses a few light kisses on the skin in front of him.

"This doesn't change anything."

This doesn't make them lovers, or even friends. This isn't the solution to everything, although he knows Sirius will think so. This isn't comfort, or lust, or momentary madness.

"No, it doesn't."

Remus turns to look at Sirius, who is grinning a little.

"Cause this is how we've always been."


End file.
